


Worth It

by lightofhope



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Character, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-04 01:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20264755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightofhope/pseuds/lightofhope
Summary: The Warrior of Light is invited to perform at a festival, but needs some help from an old, dear friend... who he happens to be in love with.





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't beta'd because I'm an anxious blob so hopefully it's not too much of a mess. Tagged with nonbinary character because, well, I'ris is.

“So, how about it?” Katliss asks, smiling pleadingly at the miqo’te. The Crystarium was holding a festival to celebrate six months since the night had been permanently returned to Norvrandt. Word had got out at some point that I’ris was somewhat trained as a dancer, one thing lead to another and now he finds himself being asked to perform along with a group of musicians. He ponders, standing with his hand on his hip. He’s no stranger to public performances after travelling Eorzea with Troupe Falsiam, but this would be somewhat bigger than what he’s used to.

“I mean, if there’s no one else,” he says, finally. “But I’m not a professional, you know. I’m sure there’s someone in the Crystarium better than me.”

“Nonsense. I have it on good authority that you are incredibly nimble on your feet. And it would give the people great joy to see you perform,” she ruffles his hair fondly. “I’ll let the musicians know we have our dancer!” With that, Katliss rushes away before I’ris can protest. He sighs, fixing his hair. He had wanted to spend the festival with G’raha; maybe use it as an excuse to finally tell him how he feels. Hopefully after he’s done he can—his stomach flips with a realisation. There’s no way G’raha would pass up the opportunity to attend the performance. I’ris feels both dread and excitement at the thought, a smile creeping onto his face. Maybe this would be worth it after all, if he gets to show off a little.

\----

One day remains until the festival. I’ris has been rehearsing with the musical troupe daily, growing more and more excited the more everything comes together. Maybe he’s mostly motivated by the thought of impressing the man he’s loved since the days they spent together in Mor Dhona. Maybe just a little. But the performer in him is looking enjoying the challenge, too.  
With a slight spring in his step, he heads towards their usual meeting spot for their final rehearsal, only to spot a member of the troupe rushing in his direction with a panicked look on her face.

“Botilda?” he calls out to her, concerned.

“I’ris,” she reaches him and stops to catch her breath. “Thank goodness I found you. We have a problem.”

“A problem?”

“It’s Alfar. He’s lost his voice,” she says. “He likely won’t recover by tomorrow and we have no time to find a replacement.”

“Ah,” I’ris can’t help but feel a little disappointed. “Having a singer isn’t essential for the performance, though, is it?”

“Well, no. But it brings the whole thing together and… the others aren’t happy with performing without him.”

I’ris places his hand on his hip, thinking. People would surely be disappointed if they pulled out of the performance now, but he doesn’t know anyone who could fill in so late, does he?

Wait.

With a grin, he turns his head to the tower.

“Don’t let them cancel just yet, Botilda,” he says. “I have an idea.”

\----

He finds G’raha in the Ocular, just finishing with a meeting with a messenger from Eulmore. He hangs back until said messenger has left before letting himself in. A fond smile spreads across G’raha’s features as he sees his guest, and as if it’s infectious, I’ris finds himself returning it.

“Ris,” the Exarch’s voice is, as always, gentle with affection as he says I’ris’ true name. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” he says, the usual warm feelings stirring at the familiarity between them. “Listen, Raha, I have a really big favour to ask of you.”

“Anything for you, friend.” G’raha’s ears twitch happily in response to his name – something I’ris never gets tired of seeing.

“So, you’re aware of the perfomance I’ve been asked to take part in?”

“Of course. If I’m to be honest, I’m quite looking forward to it.” G’raha beams. Being this adorable should be a crime, I’ris thinks. Then again, if it was he would likely be considered a criminal for enjoying it.

“Well, about that. Our singer has fallen ill, and the rest of the troupe doesn’t want to perform without vocals,” he winces inwardly at the disappointment that crosses G’raha’s face. “But… I just remembered. You can sing.”

“M-Me?” G’raha stutters in surprise and shyly holds his crystal arm with his left. “I won’t deny I can, but… I have never in front of a large audience.”

“For me?” I’ris reaches over and takes G’raha’s hands in his. The Exarch’s face noticeably reddens at the gesture. As the other miqo’te jokingly bats his eyelashes at him, ears down endearingly, G’raha takes a long moment to think on the request (or perhaps think, once again, how right his hands feel in I’ris’. Or how long and pretty his eyelashes are. Or all of these things at once).

“If you will stop doing _that_,” he says finally, rolling his eyes. “I might be able to, provided I can learn the song in time.”

The look of utter delight this earns him makes his decision immediately worth it.

“If you’ll come with me to see the others, we’ll all help you.” I’ris says, letting go of one of the Exarch’s hands and gently tugging him towards the doors of the Ocular. Hand in hand, they make their way to the Whispering Gallery, where the troupe await.

\----

I’ris looks himself over in the mirror in his room. Being a lover of fashion (or a clothes hoarder, as G’raha had put it when visiting the other day), he just happened to have with him the outfit he had been given for helping out the Songbirds back in the Source a couple of years ago. It’s not perfect, but it’s easy to move in. The hat he had received with it, however… no. Just no. His glasses will do fine.

“I wonder if Raha will dress up, too,” he ponders. “Does he even have any clothes other than that robe?”

G’raha, on the other side of the Crystarium, is in fact wondering the same thing. He doesn’t think he does. Does he? Is there time to root around the tower and find out? Probably not, he decides with a sigh. _Hopefully Ris won’t be disappointed_, he thinks, and is hit with a sudden pang of nerves. They’re going to perform together. In front of a crowd that will likely be huge if word gets out they’re both involved. Oh gods, what has he got himself into? I’ris is distracting enough in a normal situation.

Back in the pendants, I’ris comes to the same realisation. The idea of performing with the man he’s in love with feels oddly intimate, making him both excited and nervous. He smiles to himself, takes a deep breath and reaches for the door handle to leave his room.

\----

G’raha is already there when he arrives at the usual meeting spot, speaking with the others. Noticing I’ris’ arrival, he turns to greet him warmly.

“I’ris,” G’raha says, using I’ris, full name, given they’re not alone. His eyes scan the dancer up and down, a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “You look...”

“Handsome as usual?” I’ris jests, hand resting on its usual place on his hip. “I know.”

“I _was_ going to say you look the part,” G’raha feels his cheeks burning and prays the others don’t notice.

“If you two are done flirting,” Botilda interrupts. “It’s about time we made our way to the venue.” I’ris laughs at her comment, hiding his slight embarrassment at being called out. Maybe he’s being too forward, he thinks, he doesn’t want to make things awkward for the Exarch after all. He glances at G’raha, who awkwardly keeps his gaze fixed on the floor, before turning to lead the way.

\----

A crowd has already gathered when they arrive. The two miqo’te stand to the side while the musicians set up.

“Nervous?” I’ris asks as he stretches to prepare.

“I am,” G’raha admits. “But I’ve been through more nerve-wracking performances than this.” I’ris feels a pang of sadness at the words, understanding the meaning behind them. He turns his gaze to the sky that they had been through so much to restore.

“This will be nowhere near as dramatic. Don’t worry,” he says soothingly. “I’ll be right there with you.”

_That’s part of the problem_, G’raha thinks as he hums in response. The musicians finish setting up and call them to take their places. The pair nod to each other and head over as the crowd cheers.

The musicians form a line with G’raha in the middle, and I’ris stands ready front of them. He takes a deep breath as Botilda introduces the troupe. She returns to the line and I’ris takes the opportunity to look back at G’raha over his shoulder and throw him a wink. G’raha teasingly mimics him in response, making him laugh softly before he turns back to the crowd. After a few moments, the music starts.

G’raha watches as I’ris begins with slow movements, perfectly in time with the intro. Taking a deep breath, he joins in song.

_Dreaming of the stars on high_  
_That speak to me in secret sighs_  
_Drifting on a breeze only I can feel and hear_

I’ris’ breath catches as he listens. The years had slightly faded his memories of G’raha’s singing, as dear as they had been. He closes his eyes, focusing on his dance as the memories come flooding back.

_Could it be the sacred wind_  
_That’s calling me to now begin_  
_To walk into the dark, carrying the light of tomorrow_

As I’ris performs an entrechat, G’raha finds his gaze fixed on the other miqo’te, entranced by the way he works even his ears and tail into each step. Had he always been this graceful, or was this a development G’raha had missed in their time apart? He’s not sure.

_Don’t fear_  
_You’ll be safe from now on_  
_Morning sky watching over the world_

They had looked out at the Crystal Tower together from atop a cliff one morning, I’ris remembers. G’raha sat close enough that he could feel the warmth of his arm next to him, singing an ancient Allagan song. Looking back, he’d already fallen for the mismatched eyed miqo’te by then. He glances over at G’raha between steps, catching his eye briefly, wondering if he was thinking of him too.

  
_Deep inside so silent_  
_Here my heart must beat_  
_Deep inside of me_  
_Memories flickering and shimmering on endlessly_

A sentimental smile crosses G’raha’s face as he sings, the aptness of the song hitting him. Indeed, he holds his memories of the Source close to his heart. Particularly those of the last few months before his long sleep. They had fuelled his determination to see things through, kept him going. But now he finds the dearest part of them in front of him, alive, so often showing him the same affection he had in those far off memories. He wonders if it’s okay to want more than that.

_Keeping close to the path_  
_Morning sky watching over the world_

I’ris is thankful he had practiced enough for his dance steps to be near automatic, as he finds himself thinking of nothing but the Exarch. Of when, after defeating Hades, he had rushed over his beaten and bruised friend, pulling him gently into an embrace. He absently wonders if he should’ve kissed him in that moment and saved them all this hesitance.. He had wanted to. He wanted to the moment he had fully realised the Exarch’s identity as he spoke of his dreams on that Kholusia cliff. He wanted to now, as G’raha’s beautiful voice filled his ears.

_Moving over endless mountains oh so high_  
_Walking to the light_  
_Your heart will see the path and you will find the way_  
_Just wait and see_

G’raha’s eyes trail the curve of I’ris’ back as it arches into his next step. Their eyes meet for a fleeting, yet almost painfully long moment as the Exarch forces his gaze higher and suddenly he can’t remember his next line. His gaze flicking between I’ris and the floor, he quickly repeats the song in his head to find his place. Blessedly finding it in time, he continues.

_Moving over endless sky oh so high_  
_Tomorrow will follow_  
_When above, your promise is today_  
_Just wait and see_

I’ris’ dance soon comes to an end along with the music and G’raha finds sudden resolve. He strides over to I’ris as he catches his breath, reaching out to touch his arm to get his attention. The moment I’ris turns to him, he slips one hand behind I’ris head and swiftly pulls him into a kiss. I’ris lets out a noise against G’raha’s mouth, not entirely surprised, but rather impressed by the Exarch’s boldness. He didn't expect him to be the one to give in first. The crowd around them erupts into chattering and cheers, shouts of encouragement joining them. G’raha brings his free hand to the small of I’ris back, pulling him against him as I’ris brings his hands to the Exarch’s cheeks, returning the long awaited kiss. Gaining confidence at the acceptance, G’raha eagerly moves his lips against I’ris’, his eyes slipping shut as he feels the gesture enthusiastically returned.

“Get it, Exarch!” calls one voice from the crowd and G’raha chuckles against I’ris’ lips, tightening his hold on the other miqo’te. The kiss deepens as if they were the only two in the world, the crowd still roaring. I’ris lets out a quiet moan at the feeling of G’raha’s tongue meeting his and his head spins as he clings to the Exarch, both of them lost in the moment. _Finally_, they both think. Reluctantly, they finally break the kiss, foreheads touching and eyes meeting.

“If you couldn’t tell,” G’raha pants out, the hand behind I’ris head moving to his cheek. “I am so very in love with you.”

“And if you couldn’t tell,” I’ris copies his line breathlessly. “I love you, too,” he leans in for another, shorter, but nonetheless love-filled kiss. G’raha blinks away the tears of joy that sting his eyes at the words. He’d suspected, or rather definitely _known_, but finally hearing the admission from the beloved lips working against his is a feeling he can’t describe. Eventually, they part again, breathless and flushed as the world fades back in.

“Well,” I’ris laughs, gently untangling himself from G’raha, his hand finding the Exarch’s crystal one as he gestures at the crowd still cheering around them. “If you had intended to be discreet about this, you may have ruined that.”

“Ah. I… most definitely did, didn’t I,” G’raha pulls up his hood with his free hand, hiding his face from the crowd in embarrassment. He had not intended to express himself so publicly, but as embarrassed as he is, he finds himself so incredibly _happy_. He squeezes I’ris hand, looking at him, and continues quietly, heard by I’ris alone. “But it was extremely worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can probably tell I was tired as heck writing this but anyway. My twitter is @millamaxwell if you want to see me ramble about ffxiv


End file.
